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 He did not catch the chicken's head on the spindle in his mouth, as he would have done ordinarily if he had been hungry, but instead he rubbed his cheek against it. Bang, went the heavy door of the box trap, and it was suddenly dark in the little house that Bud Holcome's ingenuity had devised for him. With the click of the spring bolt, with which Bud had equipped the trap, a sudden realization came over Redcoat as to what had happened. With a frightened snarl he sprang up, striking his head against the top of the trap. Then began a series of mad springs against first one end and then the other of the strong little house in which he was a prisoner. This lasted intermittently for half an hour, then Redcoat lay down upon the floor, with his head upon his paws, to think. To see, if he could collect his scattered wits and make sure what had happened to him. He lay with his head as far away as possible from the chicken head which reeked with the obnoxious fox charm. For, from being the most ravishing odor he